


Alexander. Most Desirous Distraction

by fhsa_archivist



Category: Classical Greece and Rome History & Literature RPF
Genre: Established Relationship, Historical, Missing Scene, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-08-31
Updated: 2005-08-31
Packaged: 2019-02-05 14:28:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12796440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fhsa_archivist/pseuds/fhsa_archivist
Summary: Alexander/Hephaistion. It's really just smut. No redeeming qualities beyond that.





	Alexander. Most Desirous Distraction

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Haven, the archivist: This story was originally archived at [Fandom Haven Story Archive (FHSA)](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Fandom_Haven_Story_Archive), was scheduled to shut down at the end of 2016. To preserve the archive, I began working with the OTW to transfer the stories to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in November 2017. If you are this creator and the work hasn't transferred to your AO3 account, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Fandom Haven Story Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/fhsa/profile).

Story: Most Desirous Distraction

Author: Scyllablue

Pairing: Alexander/Hephaistion

Rating: FRAO

Disclaimer: Actually, these boys belong to history, so bugger off.

Summary: Not really needed. It’s just smut. What the most recent movie really needed more of. 

***

 

Screams of laughter and revelry carried out of the nobleman’s house that had been commandeered by Alexander’s victorious army, his officers drowned in wine, rich food and local boys and girls. Ptolemy indulged as greatly as his brothers but was too cynical of mind to ignore the goings on about him. Beside him Cleitus watched as sharply, his frown growing as Alexander played amongst the native dancers.

 

“He cleaves too closely to these heathens,” Cleitus muttered, glaring at one of the women who seemed determined to join Alexander beneath his clothes. 

 

Ptolemy shoved the dark head in his crotch away, shooing the dark skinned boy off with a sharp wave. He straddled his older friend’s lap, roping an arm about his neck. Cleitus hugged him loosely, breathing in the clean smell of his dark blond curls. “He wins their loyalty by so openly loving them and their strange ways. It makes him a good king.”

 

“He can love them all he wants,” Cleitus rumbled, “but he should marry for Macedon. These foreign nobles look at him with hope of giving him a queen.”

 

“Yes,” Ptolemy reluctantly agreed. “Their exotic ways stir his passions but he seems to have forgotten we are here to safely bank those fires.”

 

Cleitus’ strong hands massaged his lower back as the warrior thought. After some minutes he kissed Ptolemy’s throat. “Clever tongued Ptolemy, speak to Alexander. My words will only drive him further from us, but perhaps you can remind him of his love for our sweetest?”

 

“Alexander shall forever hold Hephaistion’s heart,” Ptolemy murmured thoughtfully, “but maybe Alexander should remember a lover must tend his hearth lest others steal its warmth. He is always most fierce in defending what is his.”

 

“Why do you frown, my friend?” Alexander laughed as he threw himself onto the bench next to his older comrade some minutes later.

 

Ptolemy turned from observing Cassander watching Hephaistion to smile at his besotted friend and king. “As Hephaistion is your Patroclus than am I not your Odysseus, oh brave Alexander?”

 

Alexander stared at him with a slightly confused smile. It was well known the prince idolized the hero Achilles and his love for his cousin Patroclus. That he saw a similar relationship between himself and Hephaistion. Though they had all grown up together into manhood, Alexander had always jealously kept Hephaistion to himself. Even now, drunk and carousing with his brothers in victory of their latest battle, he kept Hephaistion within his sight. The younger warrior, not given to heavy drinking, was lazing nude alongside one of the pools, playing with one of the water snakes and the flower petals that bobbed the surface. At mention of his most loved Alexander glanced his way, eyes automatically warming at the exquisitely desirous sight.

 

“Odysseus oft spoke with wisdom,” Alexander mused. “Wise and brave. Indeed I would say that was you, Ptolemy.”

 

“Thank you, my king.” Ptolemy smiled, taking a long draught from his wine cup. “As your Odysseus I would implore you listen to me now.” Alexander lolled his head, dark blue eyes blinking up at him. Seeing the dazed expression the darker blond hesitated. “Mayhap I should wait for a more sober moment.”

 

“No, tell me now for I shall not sober till my sword again is in my hand,” Alexander commanded.

 

Ptolemy licked his lips. “You know that among the youths of Macedon we play freely among our brothers. Even today we do not begrudge each other affection. We love as we love and do not hold to the Greeks’ foolish notions of age and propriety.”

 

“You speak honestly,” his lord encouraged.

 

“Yes, but you love only Hephaistion and he only you.”

 

Blue eyes warily glanced at him from the side. “Are you telling me you are jealous of Hephaistion, Ptolemy? I do not favor him in reward. He gets equal share as all you do.”

 

“That is not what I speak of, nor am I jealous of Hephaistion. Look at your love, Alexander. Stretched in his glory alongside the pool.” The prince did as bid, his gaze warm and worshipful. “I see it in your eyes. He is your nymph waiting to play with his satyr. Look at him, Alexander, then cast your eyes about. Tell me who looks at who.”

 

Alexander shook his head in bemusement, but did so. “Cleitus is drooling at that new girl of his. Philotas is speaking to Perdiccas and have eyes on each other. Cassander . . .is looking to the pool.” The king glanced at his lover, but Hephaistion’s face was turned from Cassander. “What goes on here, Ptolemy? Does Cassander covet what is mine?”

 

“Your shieldbrother is pleasing to the eye, well spoken and proven in battle. He would do any prince or king proud to have the loyalty of. Do not begrudge Cassander his appreciation.”

 

“So long as he keeps his gaze distant,” Alexander grumbled.

 

“You are king, Alexander, and will one day marry. Would you restrict Hephaistion to the remains of your affections when others would happily overfill him? Will you censor him if neglected passions overrun without intent to insult? Cassander is known to you.”

 

“That he is,” Alexander growled, “and he knows my heart. Hephaistion is mine alone.” Gaining his feet Alexander looked down at his Odysseus. “I will share everything I have with you, my brothers, but one. One treasure I must keep to myself. Do not hold this against me, Odysseus.”

 

“We will not, my prince,” Ptolemy assured, clever eyes darting toward a lonely slender figure, “but Hephaistion is our brother as well. It would be cruel to ask us to abandon him to a cold bed when your kingly duty calls to you.”

 

“Fret not, my brother,” Alexander snapped, “I shall always see to the warmth of Hephaistion’s bed.”

 

Alexander felt his arousal stir as he approached his reclining lover. Indeed, the fires that burned within never burned so hotter than for Hephaistion and never truly banked either. No matter what woman he married or how many, none would compare to his Patroclus. Dropping to his knees he knelt over the brunette, pressing his lips to the topmost paley bronzed shoulder. Hephaistion shivered. 

 

“You are quiet, my love,” he murmured into one finely shaped ear, brushing aside the wealth of ash brown hair his lover was forever twisting into ropes.

 

“I desire not the revelry,” Hephaistion quietly rejoined, petting the poisonous snake he’d gently lured.

 

Alexander captured his hand out of the water, drawing him back and over. He stretched out their joined hands over Hephaistion’s head and pressed his weight into his lover, letting him feel what the mere sight of him did to his king. “And what do you desire in victory?”

 

Entrancing blue eyes blinked up at him in consideration before Hephaistion breathed out deeply. “You.”

 

It was the confirmation Alexander always sought, and always faithfully received. He kissed the warrior deeply, exulting when the lips beneath his obediently parted to his tongue’s entreaty. Hephaistion tasted of honey and the yeast of bread, his own unique flavor lingering after Alexander pulled away.

 

“Alexander,” Hephaistion breathed, luminous gaze igniting his king still further. He had to have his beloved, had to mark him in some way even the gods would know who owned this beautiful soul. His mother had told him when they were yet still boys that Hephaistion was his gift from his father Zeus. He had believed her then and he believed her now, drawing his lover to his feet and leading him to one of the screened alcoves.

 

The alcoves were designed for brief privacy. A privacy that was more illusion than safe fact. The walls were latticed brick with sheer curtains hanging their length, but Alexander knew an observer could still see in through the blurring cloth. The small room was furnished with a padded wide bench and a basin on a low stand filled with warm fragrant oil that did nothing to mask the scent of recent fornication.

 

Alexander had purposively chosen an alcove that faced Cassander’s direction, but he said nothing of their possible audience as he pulled Hephaistion back into his arms. The slimly muscled brunette came with a greedy moan, clutching at Alexander’s banding arms till his nails dug bloody grooves. Hephaistion liked to mark his lover, a passion Alexander indulged and encouraged. Bending he sucked a brown nipple into his mouth and bit down, eliciting a choked scream.

 

“Alexander!” Hephaistion writhed in his grasp but could not escape his other nipple receiving similar treatment. Biting till he broke flesh he suckled as a babe to its mother’s teat, swallowing salvia and the slight metal taste of blood. His lover was making little keening noises as he continued to struggle, inciting Alexander to chew on the flesh in his mouth. “Mercy, Alexander!”

 

“None,” Alexander vowed, surging up to latch onto Hephaistion’s throat. He nibbled his way to one small ear while his lover yanked at his belt and then his shoulder ties. Always such an eager little thing and the prince laughed, rubbing them together. “By the gods, just thinking of you intoxicates me!”

 

“I thought the wine did that,” the brunette chuckled.

 

“It but stirs the memory of my drunken state at your touch,” he gasped and then growled as his tunic fell and Hephaistion’s clever fingers ran up his bared sides. “Your taste,” kissing the brunette until his legs went Alexander guided him onto the bench, on his knees and his king broke away to kneel behind him. Sloshing his hand in the warm oil Alexander quickly stretched Hephaistion’s small entrance, needing to be inside the other man. Satisfied he’d prepared enough he swiped his cock and pressed it to Hephaistion’s flower, gripping his hips.

 

“The feel of you tight around me,” and he dove in to the root with one violent thrust, his hand yanking Hephaistion’s head back and his mouth stealing his scream of penetration. Hephaistion briefly struggled against him, his passage spasming at the sudden violation, his muscles tight and straining. The warrior instincts battling the pain and pleasure of being dominated. He struggled and Alexander held him, proved his mastery over himself and his lover, gently kissing the growling mouth and refusing to move.

 

Then Hephaistion went limp in his arms. His entire body relaxed in submission to Alexander’s conquest. His training as his king’s lover defeating his training as a warrior. Alexander pulled nearly all the way out, then slowly slid back in. Hephaistion’s head fell forward with a low moan and only Alexander’s grip kept him from collapsing to the bench as the king started into a languid deep rhythm. Just the way Hephaistion liked to be taken and he rolled into every thrust with a soft call for more.

 

“Only I am allowed this, my Patroclus,” Alexander breathed into his ear. “Only my seed may warm you. Only my phallus may violate you.” Each statement accompanied a plunge into the smaller man’s depths, aimed to ignite his hidden ecstasy. “I will kill any man who dares trespass.” 

 

“You speak of me as a wife,” Hephaistion gasped, grabbing at Alexander’s hands bruising his hips after a particularly hard jab.

 

“You are as sacred to me,” Alexander vowed. “My marriage vows mark your flesh.”

 

“Your vows heal and fade,” the brunette challenged.

 

Alexander withdrew completely and then drove back in, forcing a guttural cry. “Would you have me brand you, my beautiful Hephaistion?”

 

“I am yours, Alexander!” Hephaistion cried, sobbing as Alexander set a harder pace. The blond did not relent and the wet sounds of flesh driving into flesh filled the air of the room. Hephaistion fell onto his hands, his own angry erection slapping his stomach. “Only yours!”

 

Alexander forgot their possible audience, forgot everything but the man beneath him. He would brand Hephaistion, he decided pounding into his lover’s body. A mark all would see to recognize the prince’s godly gift. It would only be just tribute to Zeus, to thank him for his Patroclus.

 

“I will brand you,” he repeated his thoughts aloud, thrusting harder as he neared his end.

 

“Alexander!” Hephaistion cried, spilling his seed onto the bench. The contractions of his passage soon triggered the prince’s release, the bloom of heat within his bowels cause for Hephaistion to shudder into a second orgasm that made the blond groan. Alexander slumped against him, for the moment trusting Hephaistion’s trembling arms to hold them both.

 

After a minute to regain his breath Alexander withdrew from his lover, murmuring comfort and praise with a kiss to his shoulder. Sitting back on his heels the king admired the debauched sight of his beloved warrior, keeping a gentle hand on his shivering back so to assure him he was not abandoned. There was a blank faced servant kneeling outside and Alexander called him in. Eyes and posture respectively lowered the man handed his master a warm damp towel smelling of cloves and cinnamon before leaving to procure the robe Alexander ordered.

 

Cleaning Hephaistion’s cleft and thighs of his seed he then swiped at himself. The soiled cloth went to the floor and he drew the brunette into his arms, sitting back with his lover curled between his legs. Hephaistion mumbled nonsense into his shoulder and Alexander hugged him tightly.

 

The servant returned with a black swath of silk and fur that complimented Hephaistion’s radiant glow and stirred Alexander’s arousal anew. Hephaistion fair purred at the cool caress of the robe and the blond tipped his head back to plumb that delicious mouth.

 

“I cannot get enough of you,” he whispered against Hephaistion’s kiss swollen lips.

 

“Whenever you want me,” he was sleepily reassured, Hephaistion leaning up to kiss his nose.

 

“I love you like this,” Alexander laughed. Loveable and pliant, snuggling into him and ready to sleep like the warm little boy he had once been. With the servant’s help, however, he maneuvered Hephaistion into the robe and himself back into his tunic. Loosely tying the robe to show off the warrior’s smooth sculpted chest the servant stepped back when the king snagged the brunette about the waist and swept him from the room. “Bring me wine!”

 

Claiming one of the couches Alexander sprawled out, pulling Hephaistion on top of him with a flaring of silk. The revelry had continued without them, though he smirked to see Cassander no where in sight. Hephaistion hugged him loosely, dark head nestling against his shoulder as he shifted into a more comfortable position over Alexander’s spreading thigh. The wine came and with his other hand beneath the robe he stroked Hephaistion’s warm back and buttocks, content now to just watch the celebrations.

 

New dancers tumbled out into the courtyard and the warriors cheered, praising Alexander for his generosity. The young king raised his cup in acknowledgement, then drank to his men.

 

When he lowered the cup Ptolemy was kneeling before him. His advisor grinned, carefully tucking back Hephaistion’s tangled hair to see the younger warrior peacefully sleeping amidst the tumult.

 

“A good riding always makes him sleep like a babe,” Alexander laughed, bending to kiss the top of Hephaistion’s dark head. “Was this sufficient demonstration?”

 

Ptolemy smiled and raised his own cup. “Give onto Alexander what belongs to Alexander.”

 

The End.


End file.
